Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Malaysia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Oblivians to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All The Dead C tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ossler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Whodini,
the Slits,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ronan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Certain Ratio,
The Raincoats,
Idris Muhammad,
Wally Richardson,
Jacob Miller,
Agitation Free,
Sun City Girls,
Pulsallama,
Bobby Sherman,
Colin Newman,
Donald Byrd,
Kayak,
Essential Logic,
Nick Fraelich,
Mission of Burma,
John Coltrane,
Yaz,
Yellowson,
Malaria!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lakeside,
Cameo,
Crash Course in Science,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bronski Beat,
The Saints,
Sugar Minott,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ralphi Rosario,
Amon Düül,
Gabor Szabo,
Stiv Bators,
U.S. Maple,
10cc,
Black Pus,
David Bowie,
Aloha Tigers,
Joe Finger,
Throbbing Gristle,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Livin' Joy,
Outsiders,
Gichy Dan,
Bad Manners,
Pylon,
The Seeds,
Bootsy Collins,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ponytail,
Mantronix,
Metal Thangz,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.